


you're the only one i see

by seeingrightly



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 00:34:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3630081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seeingrightly/pseuds/seeingrightly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric glances at his door, which is shut most of the way, and crawls to the end of his bed, snatches Jack’s phone up and sits back down, cross-legged, both hands wrapped around its classic, boring black rubber case.</p><p>He takes a second to listen, but Jack still seems to be rifling around in his room across the hall, so Eric swipes the camera open, switches it to front-facing, and starts taking selfies. He crosses his eyes for the first one and sticks his tongue out in the second. For the third one, he does duck lips, but then he realizes that might look too much like he’s blowing a kiss and he starts to panic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're the only one i see

**Author's Note:**

> based on [this prompt](http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/112773382116/imagine-person-a-of-your-otp-leaves-their-phone-at)
> 
> some dialogue was lifted from the comic or paraphrased from the twitter
> 
> title from beyonce's "love on top"
> 
> bonus points if you catch the goosebumps reference i couldn't bear to remove even though it probably makes no sense if you don't know that it's a goosebumps reference........

It starts when Jack forgets his phone in Eric’s room.

Jack’s supposed to be leaving for class soon, was reading in Eric’s desk chair while Eric sat on his bed trying to study for a final but mostly getting distracted by Jack, so Eric doesn’t know how long he has. He doesn’t know if Jack will even notice that he doesn’t have his phone, seeing as it’s not like he uses the thing all that much.

Eric glances at his door, which is shut most of the way, and crawls to the end of his bed, snatches Jack’s phone up and sits back down, cross-legged, both hands wrapped around its classic, boring black rubber case.

He takes a second to listen, but Jack still seems to be rifling around in his room across the hall, so Eric swipes the camera open, switches it to front-facing, and starts taking selfies. He crosses his eyes for the first one and sticks his tongue out in the second. For the third one, he does duck lips, but then he realizes that might look too much like he’s blowing a kiss and he starts to panic.

There’s a noise at the door, though, and he flinches and drops the phone. It bounces off the bed and lands on the floor.

“Sorry,” Jack says, “I didn’t mean to - oh, you found it.”

“Oh,” Eric says, “uh, yes. I did find your phone. Here you go!”

He hops off the bed and scoops it off the floor, wiping the screen off with his sleeve so that he can make sure the screen is actually _locked_ , and then he hands the phone to Jack.

“Thanks,” Jack says slowly, the way he does when he thinks Eric might be acting oddly but he’s not really sure.

“Uh huh,” Eric says. “Okay, bye!”

“Bye,” Jack says, staring at him another second longer before he leaves.

Eric throws himself onto his bed, and Señor Bunny slumps over and hits him in the arm.

“I know,” Eric moans.

-

Jack doesn’t say anything.

Eric doesn’t know if that means he never found the selfies or doesn’t know how to react to them. Either feels incredibly likely and neither makes Eric any less nervous.

But there’s one week left until winter break, and EpiKegster comes and goes, and Eric’s patience runs out.

He catches himself watching Jack scroll through his phone on the couch, getting jostled around by Holster and Nursey as they play Mario Kart and drink beer at the same time, wondering where Ransom’s gone into coral reef mode today. He doesn’t know what Jack even _does_ on his phone, other than occasionally text the team reminders of things they’re already aware of.

That’s when Eric realizes he’s not nervous anymore. No, he’s tired of waiting for a reaction.

So he decides to do it again.

-

He also makes Jack cookies, because if he’s going to try to sneak into Jack’s room to rifle through his things before they leave for winter break, he might as well make it worth his while, right? And that way he has an excuse if he gets caught.

That’s what Eric tells himself, anyway, as he bounces along to _Love on Top_ in the kitchen instead of studying for his last exam. The cookies are just a means to an end. A really weird end that he’s trying not to think too hard about.

(It’s not like he doesn’t know he has a gigantic crush on Jack, at this point, alright. It’s just - he should know better than to keep letting himself _do_ things like this, things that - that leave him hoping Jack will - _do something_ back.)

Eric hears Jack come in the front door, hears him pause outside of the kitchen, hears him head upstairs. Jack’s been quiet since EpiKegster.

Jack needs cookies.

-

Eric is standing in the middle of Jack’s room with a bag of cookies in one hand and a note in the other, trying to find Jack’s phone via x-ray vision or something so it won’t be obvious he was here, when Shitty walks in, mostly naked.

“Oh, hey Bits,” he says, tossing a book onto Jack’s desk and heading back toward the door. “Jack got in the shower two whole minutes ago, and you know he’s the most efficient bather on the planet. Stash ‘em quick.”

“Right,” Eric says, heading for the duffel bag on Jack’s bed.

He gets the cookies and the note situated as Shitty leaves, and then he spots the phone under the corner of the duffel.

Eric slides open the camera, and he wishes that he could access Jack’s photo album from here to see if his pictures are still there. Or to at least get a sense of whether Jack has ever looked through his photos. Or if he even _has_ photos. Maybe he expects the album to be empty?

He gets into an Uncle Sam finger-wagging pose and snaps a picture, but then the shower turns off in the bathroom next door and Eric jumps, hitting the capture button again. He closes the phone and shoves it back under the duffel bag and scurries out of the room, definitely not thinking about what Jack looks like getting out of the shower.

-

His first morning back at home, he wakes up to a text: “i’m surprised your cookies got through customs Bittle.”

There’s no mention of the picture.

-

Admittedly, it doesn’t take a lot to convince Eric to do a jump for the team and the reporters. He’s used to people watching him. And he hasn’t gotten to show off in a long time.

When Eric spots Jack sitting off to the side, taping his stick, there’s a moment where he’s disappointed that Jack didn’t watch him jump, but Eric pushes that aside, because Jack’s been quiet since they got back from break, and it’s about time Eric checked on him.

“Um, Jack?”

“Oh, hey Bittle,” Jack says. “That _Daily_ reporter didn’t rope you into an interview after that jump?”

Eric sighs, half charmed and half concerned. Of _course_ Jack watched him.

And when Eric asks how he’s doing, Jack even gives him a short but real answer about Parson and about his anxiety. It’s probably the most Eric has ever heard him talk about feelings in one go, and he doesn’t even look like he’s going to throw up or run away. He looks… calm. And Eric starts to feel better too.

“Huh… you know, I should really take that photography class,” Jack says, smiling a little to himself as he stands up, finished with his stick.

“Oh my goodness,” Eric says before he can stop himself. “You? _Photography_?”

It’s not that Eric thinks Jack doesn’t have interests outside of hockey, it’s just that - well, Jack kind of _is_ a hockey robot most of the time, and he has no way of knowing what those interests could possibly be.

“Hey,” Jack says easily, “Art isn’t just for Lardo.”

 _Art_. Jack Zimmermann is into photography. Jack Zimmermann has _artistic aspirations_. And, well, if that isn’t just the cutest thing Eric has ever heard - Jack says something about feeling good about the semester, and Eric agrees, and Eric accepts his offered fist bump, and Eric waits a few seconds before joining Jack on the ice because he knows he’s blushing horribly in the wake of Jack’s very unrobotic dreams.

-

That night, Eric grabs Jack’s phone when he leaves the kitchen to grab a textbook, and he manages to take about eight selfies with various cooking utensils before he hears someone coming.

-

Eric’s trying to do his homework. Really, he is.

But then he spots Jack out in the front yard, taking pictures of a tree with a DSLR, a look of intense concentration on his face. He’s in the middle of composing a tweet when he hears footsteps at his doorway.

“Are Ransom and Holster doing shirtless push-ups in the snow again?” Shitty asks, joining him at the window. “Oh.”

Lardo wanders over, probably from the porch, and Jack tilts the camera toward her so she can look at what he’s taken. Eric’s heard them throw the word _composition_ around before, although he’s not entirely sure what he means. Eric’s arm slips in the middle of composing another tweet as Shitty shoves the window open, jostling Eric in the process.

“Brah, take a picture of us!” he shouts, grabbing Eric’s arm and pulling him forward so that they’re both leaning out over the roof.

Eric is worried for a second about getting caught spying, but neither Lardo nor Jack looks surprised. Then again, they both have years of experience with Shitty popping up and yelling randomly at them, so.

He just barely posts his tweet before Shitty manhandles it out of his line of sight, wrapping him up in a super uncomfortable bear hug. While they lean out the window. Jack looks mildly amused as he angles the camera up toward them.

“Goodness,” Eric mutters.

“Come on,” Shitty says, “this is totally safe.”

“Say cheese and die, Bits,” Lardo calls.

He thinks he manages to smile. As soon as Shitty lets him go, he ducks back inside the house, pulling his shirt back into place.

“You let me know if you need to take that again,” Shitty shouts. “I’m a much more interesting homework assignment than a tree.”

Eric pulls his phone out for one last tweet. He’s never been camera shy, but there’s something different about it when Jack is the one pointing the camera.

-

Eric sees someone on the frozen lake, taking a picture of a goose. It’s Jack.

Eric doesn’t know what to do with himself or the warm feeling in his chest, so he tweets about it.

-

They’re walking to class, Eric and Jack and everyone else in the world who needs a science credit, when Jack hums thoughtfully and pulls out his phone.

Eric has never heard Jack make such a soft, considering sound before and nearly trips over himself in shock. When he turns, Jack has his phone out and is taking a picture of a squirrel.

“Dude,” Lardo says, “I’m making you an Instagram account.”

“Is that the one where you text pictures?” Jack asks, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

Eric groans loudly, and Jack smiles just a little.

“I’m serious,” Lardo says. “I’ll put the pictures on it for you and everything.”

“I’ll think about it,” Jack says, and Eric trips over nothing again.

If Lardo looks at Jack’s photo album, she’ll see the selfies he took - wait. If Jack takes pictures on his phone, there’s no way he hasn’t seen the selfies.

Which means Eric has to figure out why he hasn’t reacted to them.

-

Eric takes a bunch of selfies with his Beyoncé poster.

-

Eric blames the music and the sound of his whisking. That’s why he doesn’t notice Jack come into the kitchen. That’s why he doesn’t hear the click of his camera, however many times it goes off before Eric turns around and jumps about a foot in the air. Jack probably takes a picture of that too.

“Jack Zimmermann!” Eric gasps, bringing a hand to his chest. “I told you to stop sneaking up on me like that! And - and - my hair is a mess!”

Jack lowers the camera, the corners of his mouth twitching upward.

“Sorry,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. “You also have flour on your face.”

Eric glares, and the camera is up and clicking at him again before he can even react.

“I’ll go on a pie strike,” Eric says, but before he even finishes his sentence Jack counters, “No you won’t.”

“Fine,” Eric huffs. “I won’t.”

He turns around and starts whisking again. Maybe if he acts like Jack isn’t there, he’ll get bored and leave.

Jack doesn’t leave for a while.

-

Eric sneaks into Jack’s room and takes like ten selfies in a row of himself making various unimpressed or annoyed faces.

-

Jack announces his arrival in the kitchen the next day by clearing his throat awkwardly in the doorway. It’s late, much later than Jack usually stays up, and when Eric glances over, he’s holding a stack of photos and he looks nervous.

“I have a critique tomorrow,” he says.

“Oh?” Eric says.

“Can you - will you look at these,” he says.

“Oh,” Eric says again, and even though he has no idea what he’s talking about, well, Jack is asking, so: “Sure! Of course.”

Some of the tension eases of out Jack’s shoulders and he sits down at the table, organizing the pictures as Eric moves a couple of pie tins out of the way.

“I figured you’d be up baking a pie or three,” Jack says, much more comfortable already, and Eric huffs, although he’s pleased.

“I’m baking _two_ , for your information,” he says, although really he’s just cleaning up now and waiting for them to finish up.

But clean-up can wait, and he sits down next to Jack. He’s not really sure to say, so he makes quiet, appreciative noises as Jack flips through the first few.

“Bittle,” Jack says, “what do you _think_?”

“Oh, well, I think they’re very nice,” Eric starts, and Jack huffs out a laugh.

“This goose one isn’t dumb?” he asks.

“No, it’s charming!” Eric says, patting Jack’s arm, and Jack lets out another quiet, disbelieving laugh.

He flips through a few more and then he comes to one of Eric, his hair mussed up and flour on his cheek, totally oblivious to the camera as he looks down at whatever he’s holding, the expression on his face intense but still warm.

“Oh,” Eric says, and he feels his face heat up a little.

He was worried about having Jack look at him through his camera, having him capture these little moments, these _real_ moments, the ones where Eric isn’t striking a careful pose. But maybe he shouldn’t have been so worried.

“Don’t worry, I got rid of the ones I took while you were yelling at me,” Jack says, and Eric lets out a startled laugh, shoving at Jack’s arm.

“Well _good_ ,” he says, and then the timer goes off and by the time he brings them each over a piece of pie, Jack has moved onto the next picture.

-

He’s just asking a question about playoffs. Eric just wanders into Jack’s room to ask him a simple question about playoffs! He’s leaning against the doorframe, fiddling with the cuff of his hoodie when he looks up and sees Jack with his phone out, aimed right at Eric.

“Did you just take a picture of me?” Eric asks.

“Yeah,” Jack says, like it’s not a big deal.

Eric blinks at him.

Then he walks right up to Jack and pulls the phone out of his hand and opens up the photo album. Right there, right before the picture Jack just took, is the selfie that Eric took when they were studying at the library last night.

“Jack,” he says, his voice coming out just a little strangled, “you never _reacted_ -”

“I figured you would stop if I mentioned them,” Jack says, but Eric barely hears him, because he scrolls past the selfie and -

There’s more pictures of Eric. Selfies, sure, but pictures taken by Jack, too. Lots of them. It’d almost be creepy if it wasn’t - well, yeah, it’s a little creepy, but Jack is an artistic robot and Eric’s face is bright red and for once he doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t even know what to _tweet_.

“Oh,” he manages.

Jack pulls the phone out of his hands and switches back to the camera. He aims it at Eric, and Eric lets him.

-

Eric opens up the camera on Jack’s phone. It’s a little tricky to manage with one arm, but Jack is asleep completely on top of his other arm, so he does his best.

He tries to come up with a pose, but he just winds up smiling and he can’t stop.

-

He gets a tag notification on Instagram the next day. The selfie, Eric smiling, Jack’s face smooshed against his neck, is the first picture posted by the account _jacques-laurent_ , and it’s captioned, _lardo wuz here_.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote a tiny bit from jack's pov [here](http://jaqueslaurent.tumblr.com/post/120670341117/is-it-greedy-to-also-as-for-b-of-youre-the-only)!!!!!! (some people are having trouble finding this now and i can't remember to keep changing the link every time i change my url but you can always find my current url on my ao3 profile and plug that into the link)
> 
> find me on tumblr at [bshittyknight](bshittyknight.tumblr.com)


End file.
